


In Or Out

by Zugzwang (thunderdone)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Drugs, Gen, Like sort of drugs, No real drugs, Not really drugs though?, One Hour Challenge, Pre-Strex Kevin, Strex, Strexcorp, Strexcorp is Evil, TW: Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6366787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderdone/pseuds/Zugzwang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a small bottle sitting on the side table. It was clear, filled with a yellow liquid, and labeled simply, “Happiness”. A hypodermic needle sat next to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Or Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taloned_Hawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taloned_Hawk/gifts).



> Did this in a One Hour Challenge with Taloned_Hawk! We switched prompts, and this is what happened immediately. Enjoy!

Light poured from a small vial placed near the edge of Kevin's hospital bed. The creamy liquid oozed around its glass vial, the one cheerful thing in the hospital room filled with blood. Of course, blood was  associated with hospitals, but this was a gratuitous amount, even for the placement of it. Even if the vial looked happy, it was clearly sinister. A sick feeling crept through his stomach as he gazed at it.

The agent of Strex who captured him was the one who put it there. Kevin was able to deduce that it was both an offering and a threat. From what he knew of the company, this was what made all its employees so damn cheerful even as they gutted his interns. "Happiness" had control of their minds.

It was up to him, now, weather he would join them or die. 

Kevin always thought he was a loyal, even ultranationalistic at times, member of Desert Bluffs. He worked hard to keep up to date with how the schools were doing, even if he couldn't do much to help since he didn't have kids. Whenever the library had some sort of bake sale, he sent extra money in to them in addition to the money that was automatically removed from his bank account for avoiding it. Even local businesses were something he regularly did his best to support.

But now, what did the pride in his hometown matter. Most of what had been there before physically remained, but the people were gone. They had wide, gaping smiles and eyes that gazed unflinchingly to infinity, or oblivion, one and the same. Those locals at the coffee shop had blood ruining their lattes, the city hall had no protesters for fear of persecution. He would only be supporting Strex if he went there anymore, since they bought the people, as well as the locations. The station he knew and loved was no more. 

If he took it, he would lose himself, not in a literal sense or a metaphorical sense. Or both. Either way, the Kevin that had existed in the past would be no more. No more revolutions, no more excitement at the prospect of going home every night to see his cat or a cute boy. There would only be Strex and the idea of repressing those who disagreed with their standards. Assumption lead him to all the side effects.

Assumption also lead him away from the the side effects. For all he knew, somewhere deep inside his consciousness there still could be some remnants of his past, and one day, he may be able to escape the drug, escape the company. Refusing the offer of an alliance would only eliminate the possibility of escape.

Running his hands over his face with a quiet groan, the pulse detector on Kevin's index finger poking his eye. He took this as an perfect time to let a few curses escape, but it wasn't because of the physical pain.

Where was it supposed to be injected, even? All it stated on the bottle was 'happiness'. Was it intentionally left blank so if he did it wrong, they could still get their way and he would die? It was just by arm, not like any organs in his torso would need it, just his brain.

"But they're killers," Kevin mumbled, pulling himself back from the subconscious movement to take the bottle. The audible comment surprised even him. _I don't want to be a murderer_.

Murder seemed to be the only side effect to the drug, from what he saw of the others who had given into him. Kevin had witness them through the glass of the editing room, the way they went at it with such... vitality. He did his best to barricade himself in the office, but this also meant letting Intern Kele fend for himself. Their thick hunting knives were no match for his freshman instruction of charms. On top of all that, it wasn't even the ordeal with knives that killed him, it was the bullets. 

The CEO of Strex, Diego himself, had come down to meet him and the other revolutionaries. While they were breaking through his own barrier, he heard the man say something about how determined he was, how fascinating and useful he could be to the company. Kevin did his best not to listen, not to let him into his head, but something must have stuck if he was seriously debating the idea of joining them. 

"I want to live," he says to himself, the bottle back in his hands, this time along with the hypodermic needle.

_Will I be living, though?_ , the voice in his head asked, forever in the doubt for his forthcoming action. 

"Now isn't the time for the philosophical bullshit. Are you in or out?"

This voice came from the doorway, from the mouth of a beautiful man with perfect teeth, and hair like a field of crops, combed to be pristine. Kevin looked up, movement a sharp jerk rather than his usual smooth movements. He winced when his head throbbed. Diego leaned against the frame of the door, one of the cleanest people he had seen in days. There was not a trace of blood on his suit, which could have only been because it was black, and his gun shone in the halogens above the doorway. He was almost heavenly, if Kevin had any knowledge of the hierarchy of the heavens, which he didn't, of course. 

In one swift movement, Kevin plunged the needle into the bottle and began to extract some of the happiness. Caramel liquid oozed up into the glass tube, still giving an almost lazy glow to Kevin's fingers. Once he had, what he assumed, was enough, he removed it and held it up to his bicep.

_In or out, are you sure?_ , the voice in his head mumbled, forever critical. Make your choice, now, or greet death without complaint. Are you sure? Are you sure?

"In," he echoed, pushing in the needle and injecting the happiness. 


End file.
